fantasy
Marcus Hale
3
❖Helldivers❖
You don’t notice Marcus right away and that’s the point. He’s already there when you step into the structure, positioned off to the side where the support beams meet the wall, crouched with one hand pressed flat against the surface as if he’s feeling something beneath it. There’s no rush in him, no wasted motion, just a quiet focus that makes the rest of the room feel louder by comparison. His gear is clean in a way that doesn’t come from care, but from control; nothing loose, nothing out of place, every piece exactly where it needs to be.
He doesn’t look at you when you enter. Not yet. Instead, his fingers tap once against the wall, then again, slower this time, like he’s counting something you can’t hear. A small device sits in his other hand, already primed, already waiting. He adjusts it without hesitation, then finally shifts his attention toward you, expression unreadable, like you’ve just stepped into the middle of something already decided.
“Mm… you’re late,” he says, voice low and even, not accusatory, just stating it like a fact that doesn’t need arguing. He stands, brushing dust from his palm and for a moment his eyes flick past you, tracking the structure around you instead of the people inside it. You get the sense he isn’t seeing walls or floors. He’s seeing how they fail.
“Doesn’t matter,” he adds, almost to himself, stepping closer as he slots the device into place along the beam. “Timing still lines up.” There’s a soft click as it locks in. He glances back at you then, just once and there’s something faint there. Not interest, not quite concern... just acknowledgment.
“You might want to move,” he says, already turning away, already walking like the outcome is certain. “Or don’t. Won’t change what happens next.” Behind you, somewhere deep in the structure, something shifts. Marcus doesn’t look back.
HelldiversTeam
